


the girl from the real world

by apoculypse



Series: the girl from the real world [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-01-04 04:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18336512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apoculypse/pseuds/apoculypse
Summary: “I don’t know who I am anymore. The girl I was before died the moment I fell into this world. I’m just what’s left of her.”When Alexandra “Alex” Frost falls down a glowing hole in her backyard, she doesn't expect to wake up in a fictional world. And she definitely doesn't expect to be taken captive by a fictional group of neo-nazis. But what's most shocking is the fact she's got powers and now she's part of the story. She spends twenty years being tortured, experimented on, and being used as a human weapon. And after she survives the Battle of the Triskelion, lives on the run, and makes it out of the Avengers’ Civil War unscathed, Alex is finally ready to spend the rest of her days in peace.Except, that’s not how this ends. Her arrival changed the story. And now, her universe is about to get a whole lot bigger.





	1. the bad beginning

**DATE UNKNOWN. / DECEMBER 23, 1996. 2:23 P.M.**

Things always ended bad. They just did. There was no real reason why, no cosmic entity out to get you, no secret ploy for the suffering of humanity. Things went wrong and someone suffered. That’s just how it always was. 

The girl who would be known as Alexandra Frost would look back on this day and pity herself. She’d want to scream and cry, because she had thought she had all the time in the world. She had thought she was the one in control of her life. When the reality was that the plans for her life had been set in stone long before she was even a twinkle in her mother’s eye. She was a fool to think she was ever in control of her destiny.

The majority of her last day on her earth was spent in class. She’ll always remember this day, because, at the time, she hadn’t even considered it being her last. But no one ever really considers their last day to be their last. Everyone always assumes they have more time than they actually do.

She hadn’t known what she was going to major in, hadn’t known what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. She had been blissfully unaware of the suffering that lay ahead. She had come back from school, driven home by the city bus, and had planned on taking a well-deserved nap. She had found her cat in her room; the twitching tail peeping out from underneath her dark curtains giving her away. She’d set her bag down next to her bed, crouched down and reached out for her. She’d cooed as she stroked the small animal’s fur, then pulled back the curtains so she could peer out with her.

She had been surprised to see a thin beam of bright golden light coming just a little beyond the small wooded entrance in her backyard. The light had been beautiful, but she knew now that it’s beauty was an illusion. Nothing but unending pain and suffering would come from going towards that light. She wished she could tell her former self that. But she had been curious, and she had decided she would go investigate, following the script Fate had written for her to a tee.

As she made her way outside, pushing aside branches and avoiding poison ivy, she’d wondered what could be making such a light. The logical and imaginative sides of her brain waged war against each other as she trudged mindlessly on.

She’d found the source of the light near the dried up riverbed, about half a mile back from her home. At the center of said riverbed was her own personal rabbit hole to wonderland; a perfect circle, dark and seemingly bottomless, with the golden light shimmering from around the edges. She had felt like it was calling out to her, beckoning for her to come closer, _closer, **closer.**_

She hadn't realized she had been moving towards it until it was too late. She’d gone down, headfirst, falling quickly into darkness. She didn't know how long she'd fallen for, and to this day, she still doesn’t know, but at the time, it seemed like forever. There had always been a bright light below her, growing bigger and bigger as she fell further and further.

She still vividly remembers the moment when she first entered this world; everything had suddenly gone blindly bright, and she was screaming, throat going raw, as she grasped at the air and tried desperately to convince herself to wake up, that this wasn’t real, this was just a dream, and she needed to wake up _now._ The ground had grown too close too fast. she hadn’t had the time to even think about bracing for impact. She’d hit the earth at full force, and the snapping and cracking of bones still echo in her nightmares. The ground had been cold and hard, but her body was so injured that it barely phased her. She’d known she was dying, because everything _hurt._ She had never felt so much pain in her life. She had just hoped she wouldn’t suffer long.

She’d soon learn that hope was for suckers.

It was freezing when she’d awoken. It had been bright out, despite the clouds that hid the sun. Her clothes and hair had frozen solid, but her entire body felt like it was on fire. Panic had settled into her bones as she recalled what had happened, because she had been so sure that it’d been just a dream. Except that she knew then that it hadn’t been, that it must be real, that it must have happened. She’d tried to get up, but her body had cried out in pain, so she stopped and she stayed laid out on the ground.

She’d been so focused on her pain that she hadn’t heard the group of men approach her. Two of the men had stood over her, and fear raced through her veins as they’d hoisted her up and carried her off. She’d struggled and screamed, but it had been pointless because she could barely move without feeling like she’d caught on fire, and the men weren’t going to stop and it didn’t seem like they cared who heard her.

They approached a building, and she remembers that it seemed to resemble a compound she’d sworn she’d seen in a film or something like that, but at the time, she’d been too tired to rake through her memories to be sure. She was brought inside, only to be strapped down onto a stretcher and rolled into a bright room. She hadn’t been able to see anything, but she’d figured it had to be some sort of medical facility. It reminded her of a hospital. The air was cold and crisp, reeking of harsh chemicals and some type of metallic substance.

Someone, she couldn’t see who, began to operate on her, and the pain had been unbearable. She’d screamed and begged for them to stop, but, like the men who brought her in, these people weren’t going to stop and they didn’t seem to care who heard her. She kept falling in and out of consciousness because of the pain, and she wouldn’t know the full extent of what they’d done until years later.

The last thing she can remember from that day is the voice of the man who would claim to have made her, crowing on about how they’d found the next perfect weapon, how he’d use her to revolutionize the world. Her consciousness had begun to fade once again, this time due to whatever drug she’d been given. She let sleep take over, but this time, she didn’t try to stay awake. There was nothing she wanted to stay awake for, anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A while ago, I posted this story. I didn't complete it, and I wasn't happy with what I'd written, so I scrapped it and started over. I reworked the characters and plot until I was happy with them, and this is what I'd come up with. This series is my pride and joy, and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed creating it. 
> 
> Fair warning beforehand, updates will be slow and some chapters might be shorter than others. That's just life, kiddos.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> — apoculypse


	2. STORYTIME: i was brainwashed and turned into a killer?? *NOT CLICKBAIT*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an FYI: The italicized dialogue is spoken in Russian. Having the actual dialogue written in the Russian language was too confusing, so I changed tactics.

**DECEMBER 26, 1996. 3:09 A.M.**

Alex wakes up in a frenzy. Her skin and bones feel like they’ve been sparked with pure energy. Her fight or flight instinct is kicking in full force, and the urge to flee is almost overwhelming. She makes a move to get up, but finds that her arms and legs are strapped down onto a gurney.

The weight of the situation suddenly dawns on her, and in a fit of blind rage, Alex yanks at the bonds, trying desperately to free herself from them. It’s not the smartest move, but right now, it’s the only move she can make. She struggles for what seems like hours, and her limbs begin to ache, but she doesn’t stop. She won’t stop. She has to get out. She will _not_ die here. She won’t let that happen.

But she soon grows frustrated, which causes her to cry. It feels like she’s trapped in a nightmare and she can’t wake up, no matter what she does. So she cries and cries, but no matter how loud she screams and wails, no one comes to tell her off. Nobody comes to silence her. She eventually cries herself into a dreamless sleep.

When she wakes, she realizes two things. One, her body has healed of all its wounds. She doesn’t know how that happened. The second thing was that she’d been moved in an actual bed. Albeit, not a nice bed, but a bed nonetheless. Her limbs had also been freed, which was nice. She lets out a shaky breath as she sits up, trying to figure out what the hell is happening to her. She only gets a few moments to sort her thoughts before a voice breaks through her reverie.

_"What a beautiful and dangerous weapon we'll make out of you."_

She jumps, turning her head towards the source, moving way too quickly, which causes a sharp pain in her neck. Sitting before her is a man, slightly older, with reddish hair and cold, calculating eyes. He is dressed in a nice suit, dark blue in color, with no wrinkles or stains. He reminds her of someone she had once seen, but she cannot place who he was or where she’d seen him before.

The man watches her, with a facial expression that remains blank and emotionless. He doesn't say anything else. He just watches her. Alex wants him to break his gaze, wants him to leave and never come back, but he doesn't. He just sits and he watches. She cautiously meets his eyes, staring back at him with what she hoped was a fierce gaze.

"You have so much potential," he states, breaking the silence. He’s speaking in English this time, but Alex doesn’t reply. She just keeps glaring back at him. He doesn't say anything else. He just stands and walks out of the room she'd been placed in. Guards she hadn't realized were there shut the door behind him. The locks click automatically, but they don’t latch. She doesn’t know how she knows this.

"Start the process,” the man says, from just outside the doorway. "I believe she possesses the potential for greatness."

Something about the way he says it causes Alex’s fight or flight instinct to flare back up. The doors unlock once again and the guards that weren’t standing in front of the door come towards her. There’s a panic inside of her, and it swells with each step they take towards her. Time seems to slow down. Without thinking, she breaks out into a run. She weaves between the guards, moving at a speed she didn’t even know she could move. She hears the man giving orders and hears the footfalls of guards rushing after her, but she keeps running. She needs to get out of here.

She turns corner after corner, having no clear path in mind. She’s moving so fast that everything she sees is blurry. It’s hard to tell where she’s going. She just prays she’s not going in circles.

Suddenly, she collides with a wall. Or at least, she thought it was a wall. Something rough grips onto Alex’s arms, holding her still in her place. She thrashes around, but whatever has her is strong, much stronger than her. She looks up to face whatever has hold on her, and what she’s greeted with causes her blood to run cold.

Because she knows this man. She knows that face.

“Holy shit,” she can barely form the words, “You’re…” Her body feels like it’s been doused in icy water and she can’t stop staring at the person before her. It can’t be real. It couldn’t be him. It was _insane_. It was _impossible_. She had to be out of her mind.

Because standing before her was none other than James Buchanan Barnes. Also known as the Winter Soldier. Also known as a _fictional character._ As in, **not a real person.**

“You’re not real,” She whispers, “This isn’t _real_.”

He loosens his grip on her, but doesn’t release her. He watches as she keeps repeating the phrase to herself, fixated on her with a confused gaze. An army of guards encloses around them, and Alex is pulled backwards, away from the Winter Soldier. She snaps out of whatever trance she’d been in, and she thrashes in the guard’s grip. The Soldier complies in letting himself be pulled off by the guards. She feels a pricking sensation in her neck, and she struggles to keep sight of the Soldier as the world falls dark.

* * *

  **MARCH 2, 1997. 10:18 A.M.**

Once more, Alex wakes up in a frenzy. She’s strapped to the metal chair, as she had been for the last two or so months. This time though, the bonds restricting her are much tighter. She’s barely able to move. But that might have been something to do with the black substance running through her veins.

When they had first operated on her, she had regular red blood flowing through her veins. Now, she had something else, something darker. They’d cut into her about a month ago, and she’d bled black. Her captors didn’t know what had happened, they didn’t know what it was, and they were scared. And while Alex was terrified as well, the fact that they were so horrified by something inside of her gave her such a sick sense of satisfaction that it outweighed the fear she felt.

She’d spent a lot of time in this chair. In the past months, she’d been electrocuted, beaten, injected, and so on and so forth. They hadn’t begun the brainwashing process yet, but she knew they would start soon. That she was sure of. Her sanity was beginning to fray with each passing day, and she was terrified that she was losing her fight. But once they found out what was circulating within her, the torture had suddenly stopped. Not that she was complaining, of course.

They were trying to transform her into a weapon. A weapon that was both lethal and beautiful. A weapon that would be a perfect adversary for their enemies. A weapon that would be a perfect nemesis.

That was what she was to be called. Nemesis. Just as the Winter Soldier had his name, the Nemesis would have hers. People would grow to tremble at the mere mention of her name. She would be a ghost story. Truthfully, she found the whole thing kind of ironic. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that this would be her life.

 _"There are no traces of extraterrestrial matter in her bloodstream."_ One of the doctors has announced, pulling her attention back to whatever was at hand. Alex didn’t speak Russian yet, but judging by the reactions of everyone else in the room, whatever he had said was something good. Probably not something good for her, though.

The man from before has returned to oversee the situation with her blood. He does not seem too pleased by whatever has been said. _"Then why does her blood look like that? Why isn't it red like the rest of us?"_

The tension in the room is palpable. Alex takes the opportunity to try and break out from her bonds. Previously, she had gotten dangerously close to getting loose, but she’d gotten caught before she’d gotten the chance. What had happened after was not something she’d like to repeat.

The doctor cowers under the man’s discerning gaze. Alex manages to get one of the many latches on the bonds unclasped.

 _"We don't know. It seems it is only that color when exposed to oxygen, similar to how our blood is only red when it is exposed to oxygen,"_  the doctor’s voice is shaky, like he's afraid, and Alex would’ve felt bad if he was anybody else. _"We believe it could be a reaction to the serum. From the tests we've run, it does not seem like it is anything of concern. But we are more than willing to run more tests if you would like, but I fear it would only give similar results to what we have now."_

Another latch unclasps. The man shakes his head, taking languid steps towards the chair. _"No. If you say this is nothing of concern, then I believe you. Her experimentation needs to continue. We are already off schedule enough."_

The doctors all nod in agreement with whatever has been said. An electric shock is administered, and Alex cries out as the electric currents run through her body. The man’s eyes meets her own, and the smile on his face brings forth another cry, but one of anger instead of pain.

* * *

  **OCTOBER 27, 1997.**

She’s in a chair again. This one is different. It was made to hold someone down, and it’s much more durable than the previous chair she’d been strapped to. The doctors are moving about in a frenzy all around her. They’re starting the brainwashing process today. It’s the only explanation for the sudden change in routine.

Alex would be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid. Because she was. She was terrified. Today was the start of the loss of her autonomy, her free will, and of who she was. And it was the start to becoming a weapon, a tool that they would use to exact their cruel agenda.

But as she lies motionless, watching as the doctors attach different devices onto her, Alex knows this is temporary. She knows this won’t be forever. She knows how this story goes. She knows she’ll get out. She just has to play her part, and she’ll be free one day. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But she will.

The sensation is nothing like she’s ever felt. It’s impossible to explain. She screams until her throat is raw, until her voice breaks off and no sound escapes from her. At one point, she thinks she’s crying, but there’s so much pain that she can’t feel anything else.

It stops as quickly as it starts, which a part of her is thankful for. Her brain is fuzzy, a cluster-fuck of thoughts and images. Her body feels ten times heavier, and her head is pounding. Alex doesn’t fight as she’s dragged towards off towards what looks like a tube in the distance. She can’t see much of what lies ahead of her. It hurts too much to focus. The process had taken a lot out of her.

She was laid onto a flat surface and her limbs were placed flat against her sides. Once satisfied, the guards who had dragged her in move back just as a hazy plastic-looking wall starts to come down. The wall closes with a deafening hiss, and icy cold air begins to blast from somewhere she can’t see.

She closes her eyes. Sleep comes too easily.


	3. plot essential but at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im having way too much fun with these chapter titles. also this is very short. wouldve just put it with the next chapter, but it didnt mesh. ): enjoy i guess

**NOVEMBER 9, 1998.**

Alex saw the Soldier again.  He didn’t remember her. 

She’s not surprised, but she’s a little sad.  She’s not exactly sure why though.  The whole process hadn’t fully worked on her. She remembers more than she admits.  Maybe she thought he’d be the same. 

Guess not.

They’d tasked him with training her to be like him, to be the perfect soldier.  She’d received many bruises and broken bones during their training sessions, but she was picking the skills up fairly quickly. 

That made her sad too.

* * *

**JULY 13, 1999.**

She doesn’t like guns. 

Alex's senses have been turned up to 11, especially her hearing. Anything just slightly above a whisper sounds like yelling to her. So you can imagine that guns firing off rounds would sound like grenades going off directly next to her ear.

She can’t vocalize this. She doesn’t know what they’d do if they found out. 

So Alex keeps her mouth shut and tries to persevere through it.

But that doesn't work. Eventually, her weakness is exposed and they subsequently try to torture it out of her. 

Except, that doesn’t work either.

She shows proficiency with knives and blades, though. So, at least, she’s got that going for her.

* * *

 

**MAY 31, 2000.**   
  
It was Nemesis’s first mission. The first time she’d watched a man die. She can’t stop her hands from shaking.

The Soldier is sat beside her. They’re at the rendezvous point, waiting for the other team to group up with them. The room is eerily silent. They’re both muzzled, but even if they weren’t, she gets the feeling there wouldn’t be much to talk about. 

There’s blood on her hands. 

It’s not hers. 

She can’t stop staring at it. Her skin feels wrong. Abnormal. Like someone shed her skin and took it to the dry cleaners, but when they brought it back, it was the wrong set.

She scrubs her hands against her pants in a frenzy. She has to get the blood off. She has to get it off. She has to.

But it doesn't matter how much she scrubs. In the end, her hands are still stained red.

Alex chokes back a sob.  She really was going to have to get used to this.

It would only going to get worse from here.

 


	4. *freddy mercury voice* i want to break free

**JANUARY 11, 2014. 11:33 P.M.**

 Alex wakes up and she’s not sure who she’s supposed to be. The ten terrible words rattle around inside her brain, and the other self tries to push her way to the front. But Alex won’t let her. She pushes back, shoves her away and fights for control of her own mind. She might not remember everything about what was going to happen next, time and torture had warped and eroded a good chunk of her memories, but she remembered enough. And in order for this to go right, she needs to be the one in control. 

When all is said and done, the man in the suit is standing in front of her. She remembers who he is now.

Alexander Pierce was a brilliant, cunning, and malignant man, and if he wasn’t going to die within the coming days, she would’ve killed him herself. 

He crouches down so his face is almost parallel to hers. She doesn’t meet his gaze. A smile graces his face, and she can see it out of the corner of her eye. There was something slightly inhuman about the way he looked.

“I once said that you had the potential for greatness,” He brushes a loose strand of hair from her face, and it takes everything within her not to flinch, “and you have yet to proved me wrong. You have been a great assistance to us.” His hand rests on her shoulder. She assumes it’s supposed to be something akin to a entrusting gesture. It’s anything but.  “But, I need your help one last time..."

**JANUARY 12, 2014. 10:32 A.M.**

  
Seeing something on a movie screen and seeing something in person were two vastly different things. The helicarriers were huge. Much bigger than anything she could’ve ever imagined.

The Winter Soldier had been sent out first, already looking very beaten down, despite just starting their mission. Alex waited a few minutes until she was sure he’d cleared out, then hurried out and jumped into the fight. She unsheathed her sword, slicing at anyone who came her way.

  
While the Soldier was off to completing his mission, Alex started taking out any of the agents who came her way, No matter which side they were on. Her ‘official’ mission was to take out any SHIELD agent that got in HYDRA’s way. But Alex interpreted it as, ‘kill any and everyone who got in her way.’ She cleared out most of the south perimeter with ease.

Alex sneaks around the back of some cargo containers, quietly approaching a small mass of HYDRA agents. She creeps up behind, just out of sight, gripping onto the blade in her hands. She lunges suddenly, and, in a flurry of movements, she slices and stabs at the agents until none remained.

She makes her way to the bridge, sheathing her sword and yanking her mask off, tossing it to the side. She stands on the ledge of the bridge, taking a deep breath before leaping and diving down into the water. It was ice cold, and for a moment, Alex lost track of where she was. A bullet grazing against her side brought her back to reality, and she forced her way across the water, and then pulled herself onto the shore.

She was gasping for air, a hand pressed into her side where she’d been grazed. It wasn’t a serious wound; she’d likely be fully healed within the hour, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell.

An explosion caught her attention. She looked up to see that two of helicarriers had fallen, and the last helicarrier was inflamed and falling apart. Almost as quick as she noticed the situation, Alex saw a blue blur falling, and a darker blur falling almost immediately behind it. The helicarrier crumbled and exploded. She had to admit, it was a beautiful sight, in a chaotic sort of way.

Alex stood up on shaky legs. From where she was standing, she couldn’t see the Soldier or the other man. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been under there, and she was growing worried. But she didn’t have to worry long, because a wave of relief washed over her when she saw a mop of dark hair surface near the shoreline. He was alive, the Soldier was alive. And he was dragging the other man along with him.

She rushed forward to help, only to be waved off. The Soldier dragged the man onto the riverbank, leaving him lying on his back, half unconscious. She stared at the man on the shore, trying to recognize him. He was blond, and looked a little too pale to be considered alive. His uniform was mostly blue, with red and white stripes on the stomach, and a white star in the center of the chest. She couldn’t remember exactly who he was, but she had a pretty good idea.

  
The Soldier let out a grunt, catching her attention. He started to head away from the man, so she followed quickly behind him. The two kept moving until they were deep into a wooded area, only stopping once to cut out the tracker chips that had been implanted inside them both. They kept on until it was too dark to continue. They were sitting next to each other, hiding up in an abandoned hunting blind as they waited for the light to return. She gave him a questioning look, and he didn’t have to ask what she wanted to know.

“I think I knew him.”


	5. this chapter is sponsored by the guilt of not writing

**MARCH 9, 2014.**

Alex remembered that she’d always loved campfires. She’d loved being near them, loved watching the smoke curl up and away, and she loved feeling the warmth they gave off. But tonight's campfire was different. She wasn't out with her family, joking around and making marshmallows perform ritualistic sacrifices. She was, quite literally, a world away from all of that, as she had realized as she sat across from her fellow brainwashed former assassin, who had become her closest, and perhaps only, friend.  
  
Alex wasn't the same person she was before all of this. But then again, neither was he.   
  
They’d visited the Smithsonian before they left Washington, and he had remembered a few things. His real name was James Buchanan Barnes, but everyone had called him Bucky. He was born March 10, 1917, and he was from Brooklyn, New York. Steve Rogers, also known as Captain America and the guy from the river, was his best friend. He was a literal ghost story, as he supposedly fell to his death in 1945. She’d held onto him a bit tighter when they found that out. She couldn’t believe she’d nearly forgotten all of that.

Yet, despite remembering, not much had changed between them. The only thing that had truly changed was that, now, she called him James, and he called her Lexi.

* * *

They were almost halfway to the South Carolina and Georgia border. They’d been on the run for a little less than two weeks, surviving on small game animals or foods that were swiped from trash cans or from open windows. Tonight, they were feasting on a raccoon that had been run over. It was kind of gross and didn’t taste very good, but food was food, and that was all that really mattered to either of them.   
  
Alex had finished her portion of food and was currently chewing on a rib bone, debating on whether or not she should chew it into a shiv, while Bucky tended to the fire. On his left, a few strips of meat hung across a bootlace that spanned between two small trees. The only thing that could be heard was the crackling of the burning logs and the distant sounds of cars passing on the freeway.   
  
"I miss my sword." Alex mumbles. They’d hidden their weapons and most of their gear in a graveyard near the North Carolina and South Carolina border. She had picked the plot out herself. She hoped the family of Majorie Thomas wouldn’t mind. She pulls the bone out of her mouth and starts to scratch at the bug bites on her side of her leg. It doesn’t do much to help, and she knows it’d probably scar if she didn’t heal so damn fast. She can see Bucky crack a small smile out of the corner of her eye.   
  
"We’ll find another if we need to." he says, leaning back against the half-sized fallen log that they’d over drug over so they could sit properly in front of the fire. He looks over at her, watching as she messes with the now sharpened end of the bone.   
  
They don’t continue the conversation. It wasn’t the topic that really needed to be discussed.   
  
"The man from the river. He was trying to save you, wasn’t he?" Alex is facing him now, her nearly lifeless green eyes looking directly into his, which was something she didn’t often do. She didn’t meet anyone’s gaze unless she was enraged or she was ordered to. It had taken many sessions of beatings and electric shocks for her to learn the latter, but she did learn. And now, she’d never forget. It takes him a minute, but he realizes that she’s waiting for an answer.   
  
"Yes,” he admits,  “Yes, he was."   
  
She falls silent. Bucky thinks the conversation is over, and so he goes back to picking at what little food he had remaining. 

"He’s going to look for you, isn't he?” she asks, breaking the silence. He looks over and finds her with her gaze focused on the flames, her head tilted slightly to the side. She’s trying to think. He’s seen her do this before. “I'm…. I’m sure he's going to find you eventually. From what I saw at the museum, he seems stubborn enough."

Her comment breeds a small smile. A memory of a small, frail blonde taking a beating from a group of rowdy boys comes to his mind. _Steve_ , he remembers fondly. Steve had always been a man who was unstoppable once he set his mind to something. And if he’s still the same punk he’d been back then, stubborn would be the perfect word to use. “You've got a good point there."   
  
The corners of her lips curl up, but not into a full smile. He notices how small she looks. Everything then falls silent once again, both of them playing over different memories inside their heads.

“You should go with him when he finds you.” Alex says quietly, absentmindedly sticking the bone into the side of her boot. “You deserve safety, and love, and all that other bullshit."  
  
Bucky looks over at her, taking her in. She reminded him of a puppy that was being scolded for something that they knew they did wrong. It made him feel a little uneasy, seeing her like that. He supposes it must be a flicker of his old self. A good man, one who cared so deeply about his friends and his family that it would suffocate him, and he would be alright with that. Nowadays, if you cared about something, it meant you had a weakness that could be exploited. And in their line of work, that was not something you wanted to have.   
  
But for some reason, he can’t stop himself from saying, “Whether you believe it or not, Lexi, you do too."   
  
She stiffens, then shakes her head, "He won't want me."   
  
"He will." Bucky speaks with such confidence. He says it like he knows it’s a fact. Like it’s something that cannot be disputed.   
  
She looks down at her feet, brows furrowing together. Her head is tilted to the side again, and she’s quiet for a spell. Lost in thought again, he realizes. "What if he doesn't?"   
  
"Well, that’s too bad for him then,” he declares, which gets her to look up at him. “Because we're a package deal."   
  
She tries not to, but she can’t help but burst into laughter, which causes him to as well. It doesn't hurt or make either of them feel guilty. It’s strange, but Alex thinks she could get used to it.

* * *

They stay camped against the tree until morning, both of them taking turns keeping watch and checking the strips of drying meat while the other slept throughout the night. By mid-morning, they’d packed up what little supplies they had and started off heading south of the highway. They’d been walking for days, already making it through all of North Carolina and a good part of South Carolina. When she finally has a minute to stop and think, Alex figures that they’re somewhere near Florence, South Carolina, and that they should keep heading south, because of the fact there were mainly rural areas in that direction. Bucky doesn’t argue, since they don’t have any particular place to go.

They walk until sundown, when they stop and eat a pie that Alex had gotten from inside an open window. They change into the clothes Bucky swiped while Alex had gotten the pie. Bucky’s fit just fine, while Alex’s were a little loose. She just decides to keep on her uniform pants and wear the shirt and the jeans he’d brought for her over them.

They decide to continue walking through the night, making it to Coward by morning. They see signs for campgrounds nearby and decide to take advantage of it. The closest campground is nine or so miles away from the small town, as Alex discovered. She went into a small convenience store and had asked. She had picked up some food and supplies with the money she’d swiped from the now long dead HYDRA agents from the bank in Washington. She was a little miffed about spending the money, but she knew it’d be suspicious to go in and not buy anything. Plus, she was tired of eating the jerky they’d made two nights before. It wasn’t even that good.

They eat most of the box of granola bars while they walk. Bucky held a notebook in one hand and would continuously scribble in entries. He’d found another notebook when Alex had gone in, and was very quick to start writing in it. She didn’t ask what he was writing. She figured that if it was any of her business, he’d tell her.  
  
When they reach the campsite, Bucky heads off in search of the farthest cabin he can find, while Alex follows a few feet back, scouting the area for any and all threats. When it’s deemed safe, the two former assassins relax on the tattered couch in the seemingly abandoned cabin. Alex decides to take first watch while Bucky rests.

She finds that it’s too quiet inside the cabin, and she gets lost in her thoughts too easily. Memories flood back, easily overwhelming her, causing her to feel everything and nothing all at once. She sees her mother, smiling and talking to her, but Alex can’t make out her voice, or even her face. It’s been too long since she’s heard or seen her, and the wipes and brainwashings always did have a blurring effect on the faces in her memories. The emotional pain resonates deep within her chest, causing her heart to ache and her breathing to race. She suddenly thinks she might have a panic attack.

So she disconnects from herself, lets herself fade out and then the world just stops. Her thoughts, her feelings, everything is suddenly at a standstill. Alex closes her eyes for a moment and takes in a deep breath, quietly reminding herself that she had to survive now, and she would have to deal with it later. She pushes all her pain down, and once she feels calm enough, she opens her eyes. The world is quiet again, but this time, she’s not bothered. Alex stares at an oddly shaped stain on the wall until Bucky wakes and tells her it’s her turn to rest.  
  
When she curls up onto the couch and closes her eyes, sleep comes almost too easily. It helps that her body feels heavy from the travelling she’s done recently. That night, Alex doesn’t dream about anything. It’s one of the first nights of pure, dreamless sleep in years. It almost feels good enough to make her forget that she’s a wanted woman. Almost.   
  
Bucky’s pacing wakes her up in the middle of her rest. It’s dark, but with her enhanced senses, she’s able to make out his bulking figure moving back and forth. The fact that he’s pacing causes her to tense up. He doesn’t usually pace. Something must be wrong.   
  
Alex gets up instantly, creeping over to the windows and doing a quick surveillance check. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, and that sets her on an even higher alert. The feeling of Bucky’s flesh hand on her shoulder causes her to jump.

“Jesus Christ!” she hisses, which causes a look of surprise to cross the 90-something-year-old assassin’s face. He hadn’t been expecting her to be frightened.  


“Calm down, Lexi,” he murmurs, his voice soothing her just a bit. “No need to panic. Thought I heard someone outside, but it was just a deer.”  
  
Alex lets out a nearly silent sigh, doing quick a quick once-over of the yard. “We need to keep moving,” She slips out of his grasp, scurrying around the room, starting a search for anything that could be useful to them. Bucky doesn’t bother arguing with her. She’s right. Park rangers might not patrol as far out as they were, but they’d eventually figure something was up.

When they finally do leave, Alex and Bucky are both carrying an extra bag, now making four in total. They had cleared the cabin out of anything that could be of use to them before they left. They travel on foot until they reach St. Stephen, stopping for the night, before continuing the trek to Charleston, their unanimously chosen location. There’s a seaport there. Alex had overheard people talking about cargo vessels being shipped out when she had stopped to check a map at a rest stop. They knew they needed to get out of the country, and while those vessels might not be the ideal way, at least they’d have a better chance of going undetected.

* * *

 It’s mid-morning of the next day when they reach the port. They walked throughout the night and their legs are getting sore and they’re both a bit worse for wear. The air is frigid and Alex can hear Bucky’s arm re-calibrating yet again because of the shifted temperature. It had been doing that all throughout the trip. If she’d calculated correctly, and she’s sure she has, his arm will continue to be in a lower functioning state until it warms itself up. She’d held his gloved metal hand in hers as they walked through the night. She tried to convince herself that it was only to get it working again, that it was nothing more, but they both know better. She was still afraid. 

They stopped at three different gas stations on the way there. Bucky had broken the fuse box because he was stronger, which caused the power to shut off, and, while the workers were distracted, Alex had snuck in and swiped as much stuff as she could because she was faster. The two now had enough rations to last them at least two weeks. That is, if they planned it right.

Bucky hopped the fence outside the port first, landing almost too easily. Alex follows, but she falters, landing just slightly off. She hears the crack of bone, but ignores it. She stumbles a little as she walks, and she’s visibly cringing, but she fights through and continues walking. Bucky says nothing, and she’s not sure if it’s because he doesn’t notice or if it’s because he doesn’t know what to say. Either way, she’s glad.

They spend the day lingering around the docks, just out of sight. When it gets dark enough, they slip onto a boat, searching for an open container to hide in. They find one, but they have to climb a bit, as it’s stacked on-top of another, with another crate resting on-top of it. Alex climbs first this time, the foot of her bad leg missing the crevice she was aiming for. Bucky climbs up, again, almost too easily. He makes it up first, and reaches out and pulls her up with one arm, while the other grips the opening of the container. They stumble inside, clambering behind boxes as they hear people coming by. The door closes and the sound of the latch catching echoes throughout the container. She isn’t sure she’s supposed to be relieved or not. The sound of a foghorn rings out and then the boat begins to lurch forward. Alex curls up against Bucky’s side, listens to the sounds of the sea, and she drifts to sleep. 


	6. see you later dude, i'm going to fight

******MARCH 15, 2014.**

It takes them seven days. At least, Alex thinks it takes them seven days. She’d tried to count, but since they couldn’t see much from inside the container, and she slept a lot longer than she usually did, it was hard to tell. They ended up in Italy. Venice, to be exact. Alex doesn’t speak Italian, but Bucky says he knows enough for them to get by, and that’s good enough for her. Besides, they’re probably not going to stick around for very long.

She finds a café across the port. It’s quiet, almost too quiet, but the portions are huge and are listed at a decent price, so it doesn’t matter. Alex pickpockets somebody outside the civilian entry area, so they have a bit of cash, and they order some breakfast food, which is cheap enough that they can order more if they need to. And they do, because they know it’s probably the last proper meal they’ll have in a long while. 

It was March now. Alex knew this because she peered at the newspapers on a table by the door. It was strange. She hadn’t known the exact date in years. She used to guess, trying to figure out the date out by whatever season it seemed to be.

A memory flashes behind her eyes as she watches the rain pour down from her seat inside the café; the night sky, the feeling of falling, the bitter air, and then the brutal pain. She squeezes her eyes closed, clenching her fists as she wills the memory away. She can’t deal with that now. She had to keep going. Survive first, deal later.

They pay and leave quietly, trying not to draw attention to themselves. They wander around the city for a bit, hand in hand as Alex quietly points out things here and there. They’re walking past a bookstore when Bucky suddenly tenses and pulls them both into an alley. He pushes Alex back against the wall, crowding himself in front of her. He looks over his shoulder before leaning down so he’s at eye level with the smaller girl. She grips onto his arms, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before focusing on a piece of fabric on his shoulder.  “What is it?” she whispers, her heart racing. She’s imagining the worst case scenarios. “What’s wrong?”

“I just remembered,” he sounds exhilarated as he speaks, and it warms her heart just a bit. “There’s an old safe house in Bucharest.” 

* * *

**MARCH 24, 2014.**

It’s takes eleven days to get from Venice to Bucharest, but after nine or so days of walking, Bucky and Alex decide to stop for a night. Both of their legs are aching and the lack of sleep is causing them to see things. (Alex swears that those twin ghosts were real, and that she wasn’t making it up.) They find an old hunting cabin, hidden away in the trees. It’s collapsed half in on itself, but the parts still standing look like they should hold for one more night. They set up a small camp, and Alex decides to slink off to find more supplies. Bucky decides to stay back. 

“Just try and find us some food,” he’d told her before she’d left. They’d finished off their rations yesterday morning, and they were nearing in on two days without eating. “Don’t go off too far. Alright?” She’d nodded in agreement, and as she left, she thought about how he had a really nice voice. She made her way through the trees and she wondered what he thought of her voice.

* * *

Alex didn’t know how long she’d been walking for. Logically, she knew it couldn’t have been that long, because the sun was still setting like it had been when she left, but it felt like she’d been walking forever. But the more she thought about it, it might only  _ seem _ like she’d been walking forever because she was tired. Surely, the world didn’t slow down so she could go however far she’d walked. Things like that didn’t happen. 

Or did they? Her idea of what could and couldn’t happen had been torn apart, ripped to shreds once she fell from the sky. Alex remembers so much now. She remembers what happens in this world. Or, at the very least, bits and pieces of it. Like her own memories, the wipes had blurred the lines of stories together, swirling and smudging them like freshly painted ink. She knew that  _ something _ was coming, well,  _ lots  _ of somethings actually, but she couldn’t remember what exactly. But she knew that she had time to figure it out. It hadn’t been very long since they’d escaped, but there was a period of calm between that event and the next. Alex was certain of that. 

A hard surface broke her out of her own thoughts. 

Alex groaned and rubbed her face. She’d walked face first into a wall. Of course. Just her luck. Thankfully, she wasn’t bleeding. She’s not sure how she would’ve explained that. Normal people didn’t bleed black like she did. She’s pretty sure no one would believe her if she told them it was just makeup. Whatever. She brushes herself off and goes around to find out what the hell she ran into. 

The building, to her luck, was a mini shopping mart. Apparently she’d been following the main road a bit  _ too  _ closely. She had some money left from the man she’d pickpocketed, but it wasn’t a lot, and she wasn’t even sure if she could use it. Alex didn’t know how the currency worked here. 

The door had a bell that rang when you opened it, Alex discovered that after she’d been scared by it. Inside, there was a ton of food lining the shelves, and if the person behind the counter wasn’t watching, she would’ve stuffed her bag full with it. But because she was being watched, she looked around and pretended to be weighing her options. She even tapped her chin and said  _ ‘hmm, _ ’ like a normal civilian would. 

But the longer she looked, the more uneasy she began to feel, like she’d been there too long and if she stayed any longer she’d get caught. So she grabbed the biggest and sugariest thing she could find, which happened to be a giant box of cookies, and went to check out. As she set the cookies on the counter, she noted the row of lighters next to the register. Alex picked out a pretty blue colored one and added it to her pile. It wasn’t food, but maybe it would be useful to them. It would certainly save them time when they were starting fires. 

She said nothing as the cashier worked, only giving a forced smile whenever they looked at her. The building was eerily quiet. She wondered what the worker thought of her as she paid and left. It was probably nothing nice.

The world was darker when she left. The sun was almost completely set, and the majority of light came from the building and the faint stars above her. There was no moon. Not tonight, anyway. She looked up at the sky and suddenly, Alex is overwhelmed by a feeling of longing. For what, she doesn’t know. She just knows she doesn’t like it.

Alex keeps her eyes trained on the ground for the rest of the way back. 

She stays off the main road, maneuvering through the trees as best she can in the near darkness. Her focus is on the world around her this time, and not in her own head. Which is probably why she easily figures out that she’s being followed. 

It’s one person. She doesn’t have to turn back to know this. It’s likely a man, judging by the heaviness and distance between the footsteps. But it’s not her man. No, she knows what Bucky sounds like. He sounds quick and silent, like a shadow in the night. This man sounds bold but unsteady. She’d run, but she only has one place to go, and she knows that she’d only be leading him to the one person she wants to protect. No, Alex is on her own with this one.

_ “Nemesis.”  _ The man speaks, and it’s in Russian. She knows why he was following her. 

He calls to her once more, but she doesn’t move. She doesn’t know what weapons this man has, if any, so she stays still and she listens. She lets him take a few steps towards her.

_ “Oh the things I could get for bringing you back in, little girl.”  _ His voice makes her sick. She wants to cut his tongue out so no one ever has to hear him speak again.  _ “Especially after that stunt you and the Soldier pulled in Washington.” _

Alex remembers what happened after the river, and before they visited the Smithsonian. They’d gone back to the bank. The same bank they’d woken up at. They found three HYDRA scientists there, the same ones who had hurt them both. Bucky had tricked them, telling them he’d accomplished his mission, that Captain America was dead, and then he attacked them. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to kill them. He was tired of fighting. He didn’t want anymore bloodshed. 

But Alex was angry. She wanted justice. And so she got it. 

After she was done, all that was left were the bodies of the three scientists. If she thinks about it enough, she can still hear their screams, their pleas for their miserable little lives, as if they were happening right then and there. She remembers the lack of mercy she had shown them. It had scared her, but was she supposed to feel bad about what she had done? Even after everything they did to her? To him? To the world? No. She knows she’s not. And she shouldn’t feel bad about what she was going to do here either. 

He deserves it. It’s only fair. They hurt her first. They hurt  _ him _ first.

Alex suddenly turns, moving backwards towards the man, and then she’s standing directly in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes. He hadn’t been far behind her, which was a stupid move on his part. She shoves his shoulders, and he falls back onto his ass with a thud. She stands over him, looking down on him with resentment. 

Had he thought she would be so easy to capture? Did he know what she could do? Did he know what she could do because of what they had done to her? He was underestimating her. But they all had at one point. Once, she had been small and easy to break. They thought she wouldn’t fight back, thought she would take all the beatings, all the tortures, and all the assaults and not be hurt. Not get angry. Not want justice. That was their mistake, and many had paid for it with their lives. Now this was his, and it would be the last one he ever made. She would make sure of it.

They wanted a Nemesis, and Alex would give them one.

He shouts at her from the ground, his voice fast and angry, but Alex doesn’t care. A heavy kick to the center of his chest, and then he’s whimpering in pain, laid flat on his back. Just like she had been, not that long ago. But no more. She was done being their puppet. She gives him one more kick before kneeling down on top of him. Alex draws her fist back and clocks him in the face, reveling in the sound of bones cracking. She doesn’t need to look to know that his nose is broken. 

_ “You bitch!”  _ He squirms under her, and then her head pulses with pain.  _ “I’ll kill you!”  _  Somehow, he’d managed to hit her in the side of the head. 

She moves to punch him again, but he catches her fist and twists her, maneuvering so she’d be pinned down under him. Alex headbutts him, slamming her forehead against his nose before bringing her knee up to catch him in the ribs, allowing her to scurry out from under him while he writhes in pain. She stands, and so does he. Now the real fun begins. He throws the first punch, but Alex dodges it. And she keeps dodging them, punch after punch, kick after kick. He can’t land a single hit on her; she’s moving too fast. But he doesn’t stop, and neither does she. 

“ You know, he always said I had a potential for greatness.” 

She knew she was the one speaking, but her voice sounded exactly like Pierce’s. In fact, it sounded so much like his that she thought she was hallucinating again. But with the way her opponent was staring at her, she knows she’s not. She doesn’t know how she’s doing it, or  _ why  _ even, but she really doesn’t care. Right now, she’s got an opening, and she was going to take it. 

Alex lunges, catching the man by surprise as she pins him to the ground. She grabs his throat and squeezes, holding on like a vice. She grits her teeth as he claws at her arms. She holds him tight for a minute, then she loosens her grip, allowing him to have a second to breathe. He’s wheezing, red faced and she thinks he’s sweating. But she doesn’t let him go. Instead, Alex leans forward so her mouth is right next to his ear. When she speaks, it’s barely a whisper.

“But I never wanted to be great."

She uses as much force as she can muster to yank his head forward and then to slam it back onto the ground.

Once it’s all over, her knuckles and her face are bruised. there are faint scratches on her forearms, and most of her exposed skin is stained with a mix of red and black blood. Alex leaves the man’s body where he lies, in the middle of the woods, in a pool of his own blood. She stumbles back to the cabin, going over the fight over in her head. 

It didn’t make sense  Something had happened with her voice. She did something to it. But what exactly did she do? How did she even do it? And could she even do it again?

She nears the half-standing cabin and she thinks she’ll figure that all out later. She was too tired to think about it anymore right now. 

* * *

Bucky is outside when she returns. He doesn’t ask about why Alex is bloody. 

“Found a gas station.” she says, and she can’t bring herself to tell him about the man or her voice. She doesn’t even know  _ how _ to tell him. “Got us some cookies.” 

She moves past him, pulling the cookies out of her bag. Bucky trails behind her and she knows he knows that she’s not telling him everything.

“Might be a little broken,” she mumbles, using the small tub of water underneath the window to clean herself off. Once she’s finished,  Alex tosses him the lighter. “Got this too.” 

They don’t talk anymore that night. They eat half the cookies in silence and save the rest for later. They lay side by side in a corner of the room, and Alex has her head on his chest, and she listens to the sound of his heart beating. She wants to tell him what happened, but she can’t find the right words. 

The night comes and goes, and then they’re on the road once again. It takes them three days, but they finally make it to the city of Bucharest. And by the time they make it to the safe house, Alex is so exhausted, that, once she’s given the all clear, she curls up on the small armchair in the corner of the room and checks out. 

When she drifts off to sleep that night, she doesn’t dream of the usual monsters or blurred faces. Instead, Alex dreams of clear blue skies, a flower-filled meadow, and a boy with warm eyes and a face she can actually see. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! so i'm gonna try and do an update at the end of every month. so, this update (the one you're reading) is july's update, and i'll have another update by the end of this month. (which will be august's update.) 
> 
>  
> 
> now that that's out of the way, i just wanna say thank you for all the kudos and the comments! i'm so glad people are liking this story, and i'm excited to share the rest of it with you guys! <3
> 
> the next chapter should be with the events of civil war btw!


	7. local dumbass knows what she’s getting into. does it anyway.

******JUNE 23, 2016.**

The sun is barely up as Bucky sits at the wobbly table, flipping through the pages of one of his journals. Alex is curled up on the faded armchair, half awake but desperate to return to her dreams. Almost every night since they’d gotten there, she had dreamt of a boy. He was around her age, with warm brown eyes and freckled skin. She didn’t remember his name, but she remembered his face. Unlike all the other people in her dreams, his face was always unblurred, and she remembered it when she awoke. She had tried to sketch it, to put it down on paper so the memory had a physical form, just in case, but no matter what she did, the final result just didn’t do him justice. She supposed it didn’t matter.

Today, she and Bucky were going to get fruit from the street market. Bucky always got plums, while Alex always got strawberries. It was usually one of her favorite days, but today, Alex was on edge.

A few days ago, Peggy Carter passed away. And prior to that, there was an incident in Lagos, which spurred the creation of the Sokovia Accords, which Tony Stark had publicly signed. She knew what these events meant, what they would lead to. She had remembered what was going to happen. And these events were the beginning of the film, Captain America: Civil War. The very same film she was now living in. Alex’s life was fucking weird.

In the past two or so years, many of her memories had resurfaced, which had given her a rough outline of a timeline of what was to come. Of course, that was assuming nothing in the story had changed because of her unfortunate arrival. She didn’t think she’d made a big impact on this world. 

But she’d been wrong before.

Yet, as far as she could tell, she’d followed the script down to a tee. Alex had endured the horrors and now she was free. That was how the story goes. That’s how it was always going to go. At least, she hoped it was.

When she started to remember, there was a small part of her that wanted the story to change. But she pushed it away, buried it deep down inside alongside memories of a life forgotten and endless trauma, because she knew if she changed things, it would be game over. Alex wouldn’t have the upper hand. She wouldn’t know what’s going to happen next. And how can she keep them both safe if she doesn’t know what’s coming?

There was only one way this had to go. And it  _ sucked _ .

Alex stretches out in the chair, resembling a cat in the evening sun after a long snooze, before getting up and grabbing her clothes. While getting dressed, she catches a glimpse of her reflection in the shard of mirror they kept by the window and she grimaces. For the longest time, she’d avoided seeing her own face. It was easier to pretend to be someone else when you didn’t remember who you were. Now that she remembered parts of who she was, her reflection made her sick. 

And yet, she still looked. No matter how upset she got, she kept looking. Because this girl, this stranger, looking back at her… That was  _ her _ . That was Alex. Even if it didn’t feel like it. It was odd, this fascination she had with her own reflection.

She meets her own eyes as she fastens the button on her jeans. A few strands of black hair had come out of the half-up braid she’d lazily done the night before. Her skin was pale, but not as pale as it had once been. Her eyes were slightly sunken, dull green in color, and accented with deep dark circles. 

As soon as she finishes dressing, Alex tears her gaze away from the mirror. No point in memorizing her own face. It wasn’t like she’d ever see it from an outside perspective anyways.

She sits at the table to pull her boots on. And, like clockwork, the odd shaped scar on her leg begins to burn as she finishes lacing the first one. Alex didn’t remember how she got this specific scar. As far as she can remember, it had always been there. It was on the inside of her right ankle, and it looked like crudely drawn key, with a symbol resembling crosshairs in the center. And almost every day for the past two years, it would hurt once she woke. For a while, the mark had burned like fire. Now, most of the time, the pain felt just like it did throughout the rest of her body; a dull ache. 

She finishes the second boot, letting her foot slide off the chair and onto the floor. She sits silently, watching as Bucky scribbles furiously into his notebook. She doesn’t bother him. She knows how fickle memories can be.

Finally, he sets the pen down and closes the book. He tucks it into the backpack sitting by his feet. At some point during his scribbling, Alex had gotten bored of staring and had decided to start drawing on the newspapers on the window. Bucky can’t see exactly what she’s drawing, but he catches glimpses of what looks like connecting lines, so he figures she might be drawing the stars again. 

By the time Alex has finished, Bucky has slipped his bag back into the small crevice beneath the floor.  His hands are covered by the pleather gloves they’d found during the fall of their first year. The fabric on the left glove was more worn down on the inside of the hand. Sometimes late at night, when the nightmares were too real and neither of them could sleep, Bucky would examine the glove and swear that he could see Alex’s fingerprints worn into the fabric from how often she held onto his hand. He always teased her, but he never said anything about it, to which, Alex was grateful. She really liked holding his hand.

She slides her hand into his, letting him lead them out of the apartment and down to the streets. She keeps pace with him, keeping an open eye for anything out of the ordinary, as they make their way into the marketplace. This part of the city was always alive with people, each with their own lives and stories, all coming and going, so blissfully unaware of the horrors of the world. Alex envied them. She’d kill for that ignorance.

The stall comes into view, recognizable by the yellow lights strung along the familiar awning. Alex gives Bucky’s hand a slight squeeze, and slips in front of him to greet the vendor. 

_ “Hello,”  _ Her Romanian was broken at best, but it was still understandable.  _ “Can we have strawberries, please?”   _

The vendor gives her a nod, and she’s grateful he understood, before moving to slip some of the red fruits into a container. Bucky squeezes her arm to let her know she did well. 

As Bucky then talks to the vendor, Alex munches on some of the strawberries. She picks up the sound of sirens coming quickly from the south of them, and she braces herself for the onslaught of noise. Once he’s satisfied with his picks, Bucky slides his hand back in hers, and they make their way out of the horde of people.

They’re about to cross the street when the emergency vehicles zoom past them. But Alex barely notices, as her attention is focused on the newspaper stand across from them and the man working it, who was staring directly at them. Or, more specifically, directly at Bucky. The man is noticeably panicked, becoming even more so when the two of them begin heading towards him. He flees, leaving the booth in such a hurry that Alex is surprised that he didn’t trip over his own two feet. Bucky picks up the newspaper and reads over it, but Alex doesn’t need to see it to know what it says.

_ Zemo, you sick son of a bitch. I wish I could kill you myself. I’d make you suffer. I’d show no mercy. _

Her whole body twitches, filling with nervous energy. She wants to fight, but there’s no one around to fight. At least, not yet. 

Suddenly, they’re moving, and Alex begins formulating a plan as Bucky pulls her along. And by the time they’re both completely hidden in the shadows of the buildings, Alex knows what she has to do.

“Lexi, you gotta go.” Bucky speaks quickly, brushing strands of her hair behind her ears. He holds her face in his hands, and her skin burns in his grip. “Listen to me, you gotta go. I’ll find you, okay? I’ll catch up to you, I  _ swear _ , but you gotta go.” 

“No, not leaving you.” She knows she should run, but she can’t. Not yet.  He starts to speak, but she cuts him off. “You go, I go. Remember?” 

And he does. Late in the night, sheltered by the starry skies and the light of the moon, they had made a promise to each other; where one goes, the other would follow. They would go together, or not at all. They were a package deal, never to be one without the other. But in this instance, Bucky wants to break his word. Because he knows if she comes with him, she’ll be in constant danger. There will be no safety, not until he’s captured or dead, whichever comes first. He doesn’t want her to get hurt any more than she already has. Though, looking at her now, he supposes she wants the same thing for him.

“I just want you to be safe.” 

“Safer together, safer with you.”

The truth was that they could’ve split up and everything would’ve worked out. Things would’ve gone the way the were supposed to, the way they had on the big screen, and in the end, after the credits rolled, he would’ve came and found her. They would’ve reunited and things would’ve been fine. 

But the thing is, Alexandra Frost is fiercely loyal. And her loyalty is what changed her own story. 

“We go back to the apartment,” She says, and each word spoken feels like glass scraping along the inside of her throat. “We grab our things, then we  _ run _ .”

And maybe in another story, they would run. They would run and no one would ever find them. They would be safe and happy, and no one would ever hurt them again. But, Alex knows how this story will end, and her heart is heavy as he agrees and leads them back to the apartment.

They make it inside the apartment moments before Sam Wilson lands on the roof. The two of them move in harmony, working together to pack the things they needed into her bag. And once the bag is secured onto her back, Bucky kisses her forehead and sends her out into the hall ahead of him. He promises to be right behind her, but she knows better. But she doesn’t fight him on his decision. It hurts, but she knows she would be no help to him if she was captured too.

Once on her own, Alex vaults herself over the banister, free falling down onto the main floor below. She lands heavy on her toes, but no bones were broken this time. She spares a glance around her, pulling the hood of her checkered jacket over her head once she’s sure no one saw the feat she just performed. Alex keeps her head down as she leaves the building and begins making her way towards Aurel Vlaicu International Airport.

She makes it half a mile before she hears the echo of gunfire, and then she breaks into a run. 


End file.
